


But Don't Forget (Who's Takin' You Home)

by roseandheather



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6348517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandheather/pseuds/roseandheather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Leanne comes down with food poisoning, Mario Savetti enjoys placing an IV just a bit too much, and Christa is rather shocked to find out that Ed Harbert does not, in fact, sleep in a suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Don't Forget (Who's Takin' You Home)

Christa Lorenson knows the sound of vomiting, and she's well used to it. By now, hearing that particular sound in Angels' ER doesn't even rate.

She is _not_ used to hearing it coming from the staff bathroom, however.

"Everything all right?" she calls through the door.

"Come in," a hoarse voice croaks. "I'm embarrassed, but not indecent."

" _Leanne?_ " Christa shoves the door open without further ado, only to find a distinctly sheepish Leanne Rorish curled on the floor in front of the toilet. "Are you okay? What the hell happened??"

Leanne sighs. "I," she begins, then holds up a finger and bends over the toilet bowl to retch some more.

Christa, naturally, drops to her knees and holds Leanne's hair back from her face.

"Thanks," Leanne says wearily, wiping her mouth with a square of toilet paper. "Anyway, I started feeling queasy an hour or so ago. I thought it was just too much coffee on an empty stomach, but I've been in here for fifteen minutes already. That's not too much coffee."

"No, it isn't." On autopilot, Christa runs through her checks: cheeks are flushed but no sign of fever, pulse is on the high side of normal, respirations are quick and shallow, mucous membranes are slightly tacky but a normal color, and though her skin tents when pinched, it does smooth out eventually. "Well, you don't exactly look like you're at death's door, but you are dehydrated and could probably use some IV fluids. Any idea what's causing this?" Suddenly Christa pauses, her eyes widening. "Wait. There's not any chance you could be pregnant, is there?"

Leanne's eyes fly open wide, too, but then, regretfully, she shakes her head. "No," she says. "There isn't. Although sometimes I wish... but that time has passed for me. No, I left a bowl of cookie dough out overnight and then ate some a couple days ago. Ten to one it's food poisoning."

"Lucky you," says Christa drily. "Come on. If you're finished heaving for now, let's get you some Zofran and an IV line."

~*~

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Leanne asks Mario about five minutes later.

It isn't a question.

"More than you'll ever know," says Mario, with a wicked glint in his eye. "Now hold still and squeeze this ball."

 _I'm sorry,_ mouths Christa from three beds over, where one of her patients is just coming out of a seizure.

 _You better be,_ Leanne mouths back.

The IV safely placed and a bucket stashed nearby, Leanne pulls out her phone.

~*~

Signing off on her latest patient chart, Christa glances across the room to Leanne, who appears to be playing something - Solitaire, by what her hands are doing - on her phone and whistling tunelessly, and she's about to call out a smart-ass remark - _ah, the privileges of attending status -_ when an oddly familiar voice cuts through the chatter.

"Leanne Marie!" a male voice booms. "Dragging me in on my day off. What do you have to say for yourself?"

The man strolling down the hall looks as oddly familiar as he sounds, but Christa would swear she's never seen him before in her life. He's wearing a Giants ball cap, wire-rimmed glasses, a forest green polo shirt, and a pair of worn jeans that slouch at his hips and cling to every muscle from the waist down.

 _Taken, not blind,_ thinks Christa to herself.

His sneakers squeak on the floor, and the black fleece jacket dangles open as he - _what?_ \- sits down on the edge of Leanne's bed.

"Yes, Mr. CEO, sir. I'm very sorry, Mr. CEO, sir," retorts Leanne, rolling her eyes, and Christa nearly drops her chart.

The man in the baseball hat and sneakers is _Ed Harbert?_

"It was the cookie dough, wasn't it?" says apparently-Ed-Harbert tartly. "I _told_ you it wasn't safe, but would you listen to me? No!"

"My Dodgers were losing," grumbles Leanne, her arms crossing defensively over her chest. "I was eating my feelings. I _needed_ that cookie dough."

"The cookie dough didn't seem to agree," notes apparently-Ed. "Dr. Savetti, is this your patient?"

"Yes, she is," says Mario, still smirking. "And she's ready to be discharged - there's not much more we can do for her here."

"Let me guess," says Ed. "Take her home, tuck her into bed, feed her Zofran and whatever she can keep down until the puking stops, make sure she gets enough fluids."

"If you were anyone else," notes Mario, "I'd have to politely inform you that I had to give you the spiel anyway. But in your case, I think I can make an exception."

"Your attention to detail is duly noted and appreciated, Dr. Savetti," says Ed, his eyes twinkling. "Right. Let's deal with that paperwork."

~*~

"Have you ever seen Dr. Harbert out of a suit?"

"Excuse me?" says Neal, glancing away from the road just long enough to catch sight of her face.

"You heard me. Have you _ever_ seen our CEO in anything but a suit?"

"No, I don't think I have. I might have seen him without the jacket, though. _Might._ Why do you ask?"

Christa tells him.

"Oh," Neal says eventually. "I mean, I suppose it's logical that he doesn't _actually_ sleep in suits, but I have to admit I'm surprised."

Hastily, he shoots another glance at her. "What did you think?"

"About what?"

"Ed Harbert out of a suit."

Christa opens her mouth to speak, then decides discretion is the better part of valor and changes what she's about to say. Shrugging, she leans back against her seat and grins at Neal. "I thought he was an alien imposter."

By the time they get home, Neal is still chuckling.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this while bombed-out exhausted, please forgive. Just really wanted to get Ed Harbert out of those goddamn suits. (And into nothing at all, but you can't have everything.)


End file.
